This is a work of fan fiction. All characters and locations are the properties of their respective owners. I own the story line.

Chapter 4- Coming Together

Ron was setting the table when the doorbell rang. He didn’t even need to glance at his watch to know what time it was, or who would be at the door. Ron took a deep breath, and drew himself up. Normally, the person at the door would have just knocked twice in rapid succession and would have been invited in. On an occasion when he was expected, like tonight, he would just knock and come on in. Apparently he felt, like Ron, that this night was unlike any other and that everything would be very different.

“Hullo, Harry,” Ron said as he opened the door. By unplanned coincidence, Harry and Ron were both dressed up. Harry’s stark black slacks, white shirt, and red and gold tie stood in sharp contrast to Ron’s varying tones of blue. In his hand, Harry bore a towel wrapped bottle of wine.

“Ron,” Harry said, inclining his head. “How are you?” The two men were rarely so formal with one another, but it seemed appropriate.

“I’m good. Glad you could make it.” Ron stepped aside and invited Harry in. “Hermione’s in the kitchen. She pulled out all the stops; cooking and everything.” Harry raised an eyebrow. Hermione in the kitchen was a fairly rare, Ron was the day-to-day cook in the house. “Have you, uh, decided yet?” Ron asked as he fidgetted with his tie and ran his fingers through his hair.

Harry pulled out a chair and motioned for Ron to sit. “You’ve had a week to think about it. Is it going to be a problem if I do? Is it going to change our relationship as friends? Will you stop talking to me?”

Ron folded his hands on the table and leaned forward. “Harry, you and I have been friends for more than half our lives. You were the best man at my wedding and you’re my brother-in-law. I wouldn’t ever stop talking to you. Does this make me a little nervous? Yeah, it does; but just because I don’t know what to expect.” Ron paused and ran his hand through his hair again. “If it really bothers me, I’ll let you know.”

Harry stood and put a hand on Ron’s shoulder. “You’re a good friend, a damn good friend.” He clapped Ron on the back and headed for the kitchen. He paused in the doorway for a fraction of a second to admire Hermione. Her short, curly, light brown hair had been curled around the sides of her head, then pulled up in combs with ribbons that matched the cocktail dress that she was wearing; a layered skirt with a lace overlay. He waited until she pulled the croissants from the oven before he approached her on catlike feet. “You look very fetching this evening,” he said in a quiet voice over her shoulder.

When she turned to face him, she was blushing slightly. She gave him an embarrassed smile, and accepted the kiss he placed on her cheek. “Thank you, Harry.” She kissed his cheek before taking the bottle of wine he presented her with. “You look very dashing as well.”

The oven timer went off and Hermione almost dropped the bottle of wine. “Little nervous?” Harry asked.

“A bit, you?”

“Yeah. Tell you what, give me something to do and let’s get through dinner. Everything else will take care of itself later.” She put a bowl of salad in his hands.

“Here you go Action Man. Thanks.” He smiled; it was a name she had given him long ago.

Dinner was a pleasant affair. They talked about Quidditch, which Hermione was able to keep up with as long as all they talked about were the current standings. She caught them up on what was going on inside the Ministry. They all studiously avoided the topic of what they were there to do.

*

Hermione grabbed her napkin and pressed it to her chin. She returned the half-eaten chocolate covered strawberry to her plate and wiped away the cream that had dripped from her mouth and on to her dress. Harry was trying hard not to laugh. She was trying not to cry. She excused herself from the table and almost ran to the powder room.

“Damn!” she said as she looked at the spot on her dress. There was a huge cream and strawberry juice stain on the lace of her v-neck. She tried to wipe it off, but it stubbornly wouldn’t come out. She could feel the tears of frustration in the back of her eyes. She had tried so hard; she had wanted tonight to be perfect. She wanted to be appealing to Harry. She wanted to exude that sexuality that would draw him to her. Why couldn’t she capture it when she really needed to?

She wiped at her eyes and swallowed the lump in her throat. She almost cried again when she looked in the mirror; her eyes were red and puffy. There was a soft knock, and the door opened. Ron squeezed in behind her and closed the door. She felt his long arms wrap around her waist and his lips nuzzle their way onto her neck. “Are you okay, honey?” She nodded, but said nothing.

“Do you want to back out?” he asked in a quiet voice of concern. She shook her head. She wanted to do this, and had for a long time. She didn’t want to chicken out now.

His lips opened and wrapped around a sensitive spot just below her left ear. His hands ran over the narrow flare of her hips and down her legs. When they came back up, her skirt rode up and she felt his warm hands on the bare flesh of her legs above her black stockings. He sucked on her neck just a bit, enough to elicit a soft moan of gratification.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he rumbled into her neck. He turned her around and cradled her face in his hands. “Stop trying so hard. You don’t have to act like a sex kitten to be one.” He pressed his lips to hers, then pulled away. “Just calm down and everything will take care of itself.” He trailed several kisses across her face and neck. When he stopped, his lips were in the hollow of her neck, his hips were between her legs, and she was sitting on the sink. She had no idea how she had gotten there.

“See?” he said with a smile. “It will happen on its own.” He looked around the small room. “Although the powder room is not the most romantic of settings and might be a bit small for the three of us.” She leaned her forehead against his shoulder and chuckled. She could always count on him to make her laugh when she needed it. “Now, wash your face, and come out and sit down. Everything will be fine.” She looked up at him with a grateful smile. He placed a quick peck on her lips, then slipped back out.

Back at the table, Harry and Ron were laughing about something when she came in. She started to gather the dessert dishes, but Ron stopped her. “Sit down, honey. I got this.” Ron quickly gathered the dishes and cleared them away. It was just her and Harry now. She stretched out her foot and tried to brush it against his. Her foot didn’t so much touch, more like collided with his. She withdrew her foot with an embarrassed flush. She leaned forward and placed her face in her hands, frustrated that this seemed to be so hard.

She heard his footsteps come around the table. “Hermione, do you remember the first time you ever kissed me?” She felt his hands come to rest on her shoulders. He was warm, his hands heavy and reassuring as they began to knead her muscles. His voice was deep, and she could almost feel his gaze on the back of her head.

“End of fourth year, at King’s Cross,” she answered. He ran his fingers up the sides of her neck and over her ears.

“You know, I never returned that kiss.” She felt his breath, hot and scented with wine as it wafted over her cheek. His lips were light as they brushed against her skin, then touched her again, and again, and then one more time as they came to rest against her neck. She was caught somewhere between melting and shivering. When his fingers trailed past the short sleeves of her dress and over the light skin of her arms, her blood caught fire.

She leaned her head to the side and let Harry trail several lingering kisses down her neck and into the hollows of her clavicle. She reached up and ran her fingers through the back of his hair and pulled him against her. She heard herself let out a soft moan. He ran his tongue across the back of her neck. She rolled her head to the other side and let Harry continue to work his magic on her.

She shivered when his lips vacated her skin, and he blew over the dampness his tongue had left behind. She felt her chair being pulled back, and fingers slipped under her hand and raised it up. “Coming, my dear?” she heard Ron ask her.

“Not yet,” she answered. She allowed Ron to pull her up out of the chair and into his embrace. His lips were strong on her own, unlike the gentle lips that were on the back of her neck. She felt hands wandering over her: down her flanks, over her breasts, around her waist, along her cheek. She couldn’t keep track of them all as they raked and stroked, pinched and caressed, groped and massaged.

Then there were the kisses. Her lovers seemed to be communicating in ways she didn’t understand; their moves were almost in perfect syncopation. She would feel Ron’s tongue wrestle with her own, then withdraw. He would kiss across her cheek and down her throat. Then she would be turned just a little and Harry’s teeth would abandon her ear and his lips would find hers. Her head was spinning so fast she could barely even respond to one sensation before it was replaced by something new.

She grabbed a tie, she was so overloaded she wasn’t even sure whose it was, but she yanked on it and tore at the knot. When it was loose, she pulled the owner down and crushed her lips to his. His hand wrapped around the back of her head and returned the force. Her tongue shot forward, the mouth pulled at it and sucked on it deeply. She knew that mouth. She ran her fingers into his hair and found that she was right.

Then she felt a breath of cold air on her back, and realized her zipper was open. Then her dress was in a puddle on the floor. “Purple is definitely your color,” Harry growled in her ear. She broke her kiss with Ron and leaned her head back into Harry.

“You really think so?” she tried to ask as his tongue entered her mouth. Ron’s lips were in her cleavage now, his hands were on her hips, and her bra was falling to the floor. She realized that there was one distinct disadvantage to there being four hands on her. She couldn’t keep track of them all. Then she felt hands under her legs and she was airborne. “Oh my God!” she cried out as her back came to rest on the cold, wooden table. It wasn’t really all that cold, but it was quite a bit colder than she was.

Then there were lips on her breasts, one set for each. She opened her eyes to see who was where, trying to get a sense of what each was doing to her. Ron was being the gentle one now; his kisses light and his tongue playful as it flicked at her nipple. Harry was a little more aggressive, pulling on her as he nibbled. She decided that this must be the reason breasts came in pairs and moaned as she pulled them both against her.

She grabbed Harry and pulled him up. She yanked his shirt-tails from his pants and fumbled with the buttons as he ran fingers over her lips. “Off,” she growled as she yanked at a button. Suddenly, Harry was shirtless.

“Good girl,” he said as he pressed his lips to hers. She entwined her fingers from one hand in Harry’s hair as she kissed him with reckless abandon. Her other pulled Ron’s mouth hard to her chest as he sucked most of her breast into his mouth. Then Ron arched and moaned, his finger tweaked the stiff nipple it was playing with and his body went rigid. It was the same reaction he normally gave when she reached into his underwear and squeezed his cock, but her hand was nowhere near his prick. Hermione broke the kiss with Harry.

“What was that?” she asked breathlessly.

It was like a splash of cold water. Ron released her nipples and stood up. Harry sat down.

“You didn’t tell her, did you?” Ron asked.

“Tell me what?”

“Did it bother you, Ron?”

“Surprisingly, no.”

“One of you two want to tell me what is going on here? And someone give me my dress.” She was suddenly very conscious of the fact that she was lying on the dining room table in her knickers.

“You gonna tell her, or am I?” Ron asked, giving Harry a hard, accusing look.

“I will.”

Harry turned to look at her with a serious expression, although his skin was still flush with excitement. Ron helped her down off the table and handed her the purple dress, which she clutched to her chest. Harry raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as she sat down opposite him.

“You know Hermione, the three of us are a trio; a great trio. We’ve always been there for each other. Fulfilling-“

“Harry, this is going to take all night if you try to use my explanations.”

“It’ll take even longer if you keep interrupting him.”

“He’s right though. The long and short of it is that when Ron asked me about this, I told him if I did this, that I wanted to be able to touch him as well as you.”

Hermione felt her dress slipping from her fingers; she yanked it back up. “Harry, you’re…bi?” She turned to Ron, stung by the fact that he hadn’t told her. “And you two planned this out and you couldn’t tell me? What about you?”

“Honey, I-“

“Hermione, don’t be angry with Ron. This was my fault. I was supposed to tell you before we started. Things just got… carried away.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” she said to Ron, suddenly feeling keenly isolated.

“I should probably go,” Harry said, picking his pants up from the floor.

“Sit tight,” Ron replied.

“Why?” Hermione asked her husband, begging him for an answer that would make sense of all of this. That Harry might be bi-sexual was barely a consideration, and quite frankly, not that surprising. She had built a life on knowing Ron and what he stood for, his honesty and loyalty, and she could not understand why he would keep such secrets from her; especially in light of their recent deep honesty and openness with one another.

“Because I asked him, on our friendship, not to say anything to you.” Hermione turned to look at Harry now, her eyes riveted to his face. Harry had invoked the one thing that would keep Ron silent, and for just a fraction of a second she hated Harry for using that leverage.

“To answer your first question, I’m not bi. At least I don’t think so. I’m just curious what it would feel like to… touch… another man; blame Sirius and Remus.” He paused, seeming to gather his thoughts. “You and Ron are the only people I would trust with that knowledge about me. Ginny doesn’t even know; at least not yet.” Harry reached across the table and indicated he wanted Hermione’s hand. She gave him one, but held her dress in place with the other.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. Don’t be mad at Ron, though. He wanted to tell you, he really did. He said not telling you was harder than letting me touch him like that.”

“Is that true?” Ron nodded to her. “And you’re not going to abandon me for… Justin?” she seemed to pull the name out of the air.

“Finch-Fletchley?” Ron laughed. “No, honey, I am not going to turn you over for Justin.” He took a deep breath and a serious expression settled over him. “I’m doing this for Harry. We are the three of us, always have been, always will be.” He reached out and settled his hand over her’s and Harry’s.

She smiled, this was the man she knew and loved, always providing for his loved ones; whatever they needed. She looked at Harry, who looked calm again. She took a deep breath and considered the situation; if they were okay with this, she could be okay with it. Ron was rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand; Harry was tracing lines in her palm. Flickers of sensation began running up her arm and triggering memories of sensations elsewhere. Now she just had to figure out how to communicate to them that she was okay and wanted to try again.

“You’re right, we are the three of us. But if we are all supposed to be equal in this, how is it I’m the only one in my knickers?”

“What are you still doing in your knickers?” Harry asked with a sly grin as he pulled their hands toward him and kissed them. She withdrew her hand and, with an innocent smile, bolted for the bedroom.

*

“Shall we go after her?” Harry asked Ron. Ron thought for a moment: they could follow like she wanted, or they could stay out here and let her curiosity get the better of her. On the other hand, there was a lot more room in a king-size bed than there was on the dining room table. Ron stood and pulled off his shirt.

“Let’s go, my wife awaits us.” Ron dropped his pants to the floor, so that he was now clad only in his black, silk boxers. Harry followed suit, revealing a pair of fire engine red, men’s Speedos. “Jesus, mate. How the hell do you keep those things on?”

“Special occasions only,” Harry replied. “They make a hell of a first impression.”

“I should say so. Hell, I’m impressed and I lived in the same dorm as you for seven years.” When the two men arrived in the bedroom there was no sign of Hermione. Harry started to say something, but Ron shushed him and pointed to the bed. He pointed, indicating Harry should go around to the far side.

Once they had taken up their positions they yanked the covers down to reveal Hermione lying there, still in her purple lace knickers and garter with black stockings. The two jumped into bed on either side of her and pulled the covers back over themselves. Hermione giggled in the confined darkness, but it quickly changed to a sigh.

Ron nuzzled his lips into her neck and reached down to drift his hand casually up her leg. When he reached her crotch, he found another hand had already taken up residence there. It squeezed and rubbed her, but had not yet slipped beneath the material blocking access to the treasures within. Ron’s hand slid farther up, grazing nails over her the sensitive skin of her stomach. He went to grope her far breast, but found that lips were already closed over that nipple. Growling with frustration, he brought his hand over and traced lingering circles around her other nipple as his mouth moved down to claim her moaning lips.

He felt her hand slide down his chest. It didn’t pause to tickle the trail of hair across his stomach as she often did, but instead slipped under his waistband. Her fingers wrapped around him and he shifted up closer to her as he moaned into her mouth. Suddenly, she pulled away and released him.

“Dear God!” she said, kicking away the covers. Ron gulped the cool, fresh air. He watched with amusement as Hermione tore away Harry’s underwear. Having lived with Harry for seven years during school, Ron knew how thickly Harry was hung. Hermione, however, had never seen it before this moment. “Oh my God,” she breathed as she wrapped two hands around it and began to stroke. He watched as she leaned forward and began to lick it, rather like a lollipop or an ice cream cone.

Harry’s head fell back against the pillows and he moaned. He reached down and tangled his hands in her hair, Ron reached up and pulled them away. Harry looked up at him, Ron just shook his head as though saying, ‘trust me, just don’t.’

Ron reached over to rub her arse, then slid a finger under her knickers and found that she was very wet. He watched as she slowly worked her tongue and lips around and over Harry. After several minutes, during which Ron divested himself of his boxers, she finally opened her mouth and slid down over him. Harry let out a moan that was suddenly cut off in a grimace and a wince. She had only been able to take in half of it before she had to come back up and went back to licking and kissing.

Ron peeled away the purple lace that had been blocking his full access to her. She slid out of them, but only with a little prompting. It seemed she was pre-occupied with the item in front of her. Ron suppressed the surge of jealousy that tickled at him. He would not be envious of how much attention and concentration his wife was devoting to Harry’s cock. To slake his need to be doing something, he laid down under her hips and flicked his tongue across her engorged clit. She moaned, then stopped. Her voice was now replaced by a deep loud moan from Harry.

Ron focused intently on the job at hand, or mouth, as it were. He grazed his hands up the back of her thighs, over her soft cheeks, and slipped a thumb inside her. His other hand continued to roam about, kneading and stroking her soft skin. Her moaning got progressively louder, as did Harry’s. Ron reached down and gave himself a couple of strokes, then gave up. He slid out from underneath Hermione and got up behind her.

She was on her hands and knees, her arse high in the air, and the smell of her filled his senses. Settling in behind her, he placed his hands on her hips and eased into her with a long smooth stroke. “Oh yes!” she called out as she lifted up off of Harry. Then she settled back down over him again. Once Ron had found a good rhythm, he opened his eyes and looked down. Harry seemed to be flailing about, looking for something to do with his hands. Finally, he settled them in the tangles of her hair, and tried to guide her farther down his length.

Suddenly his eyes snapped open and he sat up slightly. “Ow,” he said rather quietly, having released Hermione’s head. Ron chuckled to himself; she had bit him on purpose.

“I tried to warn you mate.” Harry sank back down again as her head began to move slowly up and down. Ron slowed his rhythm so that he matched her pace. Soon they were all making a great deal of noise. Hermione was flexing her muscles with every back-stroke that Ron took and it felt like she was pulling on him.

Harry began calling out, saying he was getting close. This only seemed to encourage her. The strokes of her mouth slowed even more, but the hollows of her cheeks drew in with each up stroke. Ron almost wished he were Harry at that moment, because what she was doing was one of Ron’s favorite sensations. He knew her tongue would be dancing around as she sucked hard and deep. Ron began to quicken his pace in anticipation. He wanted to be slamming in and out of her when Harry came deep in her throat.

Suddenly, Harry threw his arms out and shouted. Hermione stopped moving, but Ron knew she was by no means still. He could almost feel the suction on his own cock as he pounded in and out of her. She pulled up off of Harry and screamed. Cum was still oozing from Harry’s cock as her cries of ‘Yes!’ echoed through the room.

There was a shift on the bed and Ron forced his eyes open to see Harry sliding underneath her, his legs wrapping around the outside of hers. He pulled her down to him and kissed her deeply, his mouth absorbing her screams.

Suddenly, her whole body began to quiver and shake. Ron smiled broadly and continued to ride her until she could take no more. Spent and exhausted, she cried out and lurched forward to collaps on top of Harry. Ron stood there for a moment, his dick sticking out like flagpole. It had happened before, where he would get just the right angle on her and she would orgasm so hard she was just too sensitive to take any more. He knew she just needed a couple of minutes to rest and regain her senses, then they could pick up again. She seemed cozy enough for the moment. “Be right back,” Ron said and headed down to the kitchen.

*

“That was something,” Harry said as he hugged her and gave her a light kiss. “Why did he stop, since he obviously wasn’t done yet?”

“I have this spot, and if he hits it just right I go into overload. It’s like every nerve and every muscle in my body begins to pulse rapidly. It’s not a g-spot, it’s something else.” She took a deep breath and leaned against Harry, listening to his steady heartbeat and using it to steady her own. “I just need a minute to calm down.”

“Where’s he going?” Harry asked.

“Get something to drink, maybe some chocolate,” she answered after a few seconds. “When it’s really good he wants cheeseburgers. Don’t ask me why.”

“I thought only women got after sex cravings.” Usually the most he ever wanted was a glass of water.

“No, I get them less often than he does, but when I do, mine are a lot more exotic.” Harry made a noise that indicated he wanted her to continue. She shivered as his hand stroked lightly up and down her back. “Usually something spicy: thai food, really hot salsa, buffalo chicken strips.”

“If you want really good spice, try kung pao chicken.” Next to kimshi, it was the spiciest oriental food he had ever eaten. The place he and Ginny ordered from used three kinds of peppers and came with a warning.

She grinned up at him. “I know,” she replied, just before she kissed him lightly. “I have leftovers in the refrigerator.” Harry raised an eyebrow and then turned her over and kissed her again; this time more deeply. She writhed under him a bit. Then, seemingly comfortable, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. Her lips were soft and wet, and she tasted a little salty. Her lips were thinner than Ginny’s, and he could feel it in the way she kissed. There was more mouth and tongue involved; less focus on the lips themselves. Finally, he adjusted to her style and dove in with his tongue.

He liked the way she kissed; it indicated more action, less sensuality. He rolled over again, and felt her slick pussy graze over his limp cock. He began to stir. She kissed her way across his jaw line and nibbled at his ear. He ran his hands up her flanks and gently caressed her breast. “Eat me,” she whispered into his ear.

He hadn’t even really had time to react, when she lifted herself up off of him and settled her thighs on either side of his head. As he looked up at her he could see past her patch of dark brown hair, over her stomach to the swell of her breasts with their small pink nipples. She was looking down at him now, her eyes very intense. He placed his hands under her bum where she was sitting on his shoulders, and lifted. He brought his mouth up to her succulent lips, and kissed her. It was not a light or tentative kiss, nor a tongue filled kiss, but a deep kiss like he would place on her mouth.

“Oh!” she cried sharply and ground down against his lips. He kissed and sucked her. She was sweet and rich, honey smooth and thick, it was a pleasant taste that excited the senses and the libido. He felt blood begin to trickle into his cock again. She writhed and pushed against his mouth, her body begging for more. He opened his mouth wider and pulled her open with him. His tongue pushed out and began to swirl around inside her. She cried out again.

He broke away from her lips and pushed his tongue up through her folds until it rubbed over her clit. She shuddered and called out his name. That was it. That was the key. Blood began to rush into his cock now, and it swelled a little more every time she called his name. It was intoxicating. Ginny was a moaner, but rarely actually said anything unless she was talking dirty. To hear his name cried out like this was a whole new kind of turn on. He used his thumbs to open her to him, and pushed his tongue back and forth over her clit. He rubbed it with the bottom of his tongue, the top, the tip, and even the sides. All the time she was calling his name. He took hold of her hand and guided it toward his cock.

Sensing what he wanted, but unable to reach back that far, she lifted up off of his face and turned around. She settled her knees on either side of his chest, and leaned forward slightly. Harry reached up and pulled her hips back down against his face. “Say my name,” he rumbled, then he licked her again. She pushed down against him and called out his name. In response, he pushed his head up farther and buried his tongue inside of her.

Her hand was warm against his skin, and his cock jerked as she gripped him. She began to stroke him as he lavished attention on her pussy. “I want to feel you inside me,” she groaned in a husky voice after several minutes. Harry had no complaints with that as she lifted up off of him and perched herself above his erection. She rubbed the head of his cock back and forth over her slit several times, until the head was covered in her juices. Then she lowered herself down onto him.

He let out a low growl as she opened up around him. He could feel her walls stretching to accommodate him. She was moving very slowly and breathing very audibly, but he was simply luxuriating in the feeling of what was going on inside of her. As she stretched inside, she seemed to be tightening outside. She was squeezing him, rippling along his length, seeming to pull at him. Finally, with a long sigh, he felt her settle against him.

He rolled his hips under her, pushing up slightly and she rose with him. There was nothing rushed about this, she wasn’t ready to be pushed yet and he didn’t want to. This was good, this long, slow, tantalizing pleasure. It was different from the way that he and Ginny made love. She leaned forward slightly, and ran her hands up his chest.

“That’s it,” he whispered to her, “nice and slow.” He was beginning to wonder what was taking Ron so long, but when she leaned over and ran a tongue over his nipple, the thought went right out of his head. He ran his hands up her thighs, over the subtle flare of her hips, along the skin of her flanks, until at last they cupped her breasts. She wasn’t as curvaceous or her body as yielding as what he was used to, but this was a beauty all its own.

He pushed up against her slowly and heard her gasp. He was pushing deeper now, and she gave way before him. He pulled back and rolled forward again. Her hips began to rock back and forth above him. Her lips were climbing their way up his throat. He craned his head back so that she could get to more. When at last her lips found his again, they moved together in soft unhurried movements.

He felt a weight on the bed to his right. Hermione apparently felt it too, because she broke their kiss and turned to look. Harry watched as Ron leaned forward to kiss his wife. Their kiss was light, more like brushing their lips over one another. Their lips came to together again, this time the kiss was deeper, but still tender. Harry marveled at how things changed. Watching the two of them kiss like this when he was younger, when they were in school, had always caused him to say things like ‘get a room’ and ‘take it somewhere else.’ Now though, as he heard her whimpers of pleasure and watched them kiss, it turned him on and made him want to join them.

He lifted himself up and began to trail kisses along her neck and cheek. As his mouth neared hers though, Ron started to move away. Harry reached up and placed a hand on Ron’s cheek so that he couldn’t move away. His lips insinuated themselves into the kiss. All three seemed a bit tentative. Ron was tense; the muscles in his face were tight and Harry imagined that his brows were furrowed. Hermione’s kisses were jumpy, as though she wasn’t sure what to do or how to do it. Harry knew his own were just as weak. He wasn’t sure what would happen if any one of them fully committed to this, but he knew that if he didn’t no one else would.

He opened his mouth slightly and ran his tongue over Hermione’s lips. She responded by opening her mouth and pushing her tongue against Ron’s mouth. Harry could feel Ron’s uneasiness in his breathing. “Ron,” Hermione breathed between their three mouths. Her tone was inviting and welcoming. Harry felt a second set of lips against his, this one full and stronger, with a tickling of moustache against his nose. Harry kissed back before they could escape. Ron had a more rugged feel to him, and the wine on his lips tasted good.

Hermione’s tongue poked against his and Ron’s joined lips. They both opened up and suddenly the three mouths were a tangle of tongues; each one trying to taste both of the other two. Harry found he could find no difference in the texture of the two tongues, save that Ron kept his stiffer and more pointed. His hand that had been caressing Hermione now rode up to tangle in her hair, while the one that had held Ron’s cheek now grazed over it and gripped the back of his neck. Ron gasped and moaned.

“This is turning you on, isn’t it dear?” Hermione said, more statement than question.

“I never thought watching my wife make love to another man could be so… erotic,” Ron replied without pulling away.

“Must be genetic,” Harry murmured. Before either one could respond though, Harry thrust his cock deeper into Hermione. She broke from the kiss and moaned loudly. Harry pushed his lips hard against Ron and forced his tongue into his friend’s mouth. Ron responded with a kind of aggression Harry hadn’t quite expected. He was a powerful kisser, and his technique was very dominant. When the kiss broke after only a few seconds, Harry fell back against the pillow again. “Do you always kiss like that?” Harry asked Ron.

“Like what?” Hermione asked.

“Like this.” Ron grabbed Hermione by the back of the head and leaned into her. Harry watched as Ron literally plundered her mouth, bending her neck back as he moved over her. Harry continued to rock his hips into her, causing her to moan loud enough that he could hear her despite her attachment to Ron’s lips. He tore his eyes away from their mouths and allowed himself the luxury of examining the bodies before him.

Hermione’s body was small and tight, almost what one might call athletic, but lacking the stark muscular definition. Her skin was smooth and lightly tanned along the lines of a conservative one-piece bathing suit. Her breasts were considerably smaller than what he was used to, but they were quite firm and pushed out away from her body to a point. Her areolas were a darker pink and puckered tightly around her small nipples. Her stomach was slightly rounded and her hips narrow.

Ron’s chest was flat, with a patch of flame red hair in the middle. His stomach was flat, though not really defined. He had a long stripe of fairly thick hair that ran from his navel down into his pubic region. From there, his cock stood at rigid attention. Harry tried to examine it critically; it was considerably thinner than his own, though no thinner than what was probably average. However, it was quite long. Harry figured he could wrap both hands around it and the head and maybe a little more would still poke out the top.

His curiosity piqued, he reached out and wrapped a hand around Ron. He took a couple of strokes. The skin moved easily and Ron was moaning now too. Ron guided Hermione’s hand down to where Harry was pulling on him. Harry let go, thinking that Ron wanted a woman’s touch there. However, once Hermione’s hand had settled and began to play and tickle, Ron reached forward and pulled Harry’s hand back. The two of them stroked Ron’s cock together.

Harry watched as Ron brought a hand up to Hermione’s chest and began to tease one of her nipples. He had lost track of Ron’s other hand though, the one that had been tangled in Hermione’s hair. Then he found it as he felt Ron’s fingers tickle over his scrotum. “Oh yeah,” he growled. That was a sensation he hadn’t been expecting, and it was very nice. Hermione continued to grip him and slide up and down him, and now Ron’s hand began to gently caress and squeeze his balls. Just when he thought it couldn’t get any better, Hermione fell forward and kissed him.

She kissed him eagerly, sucking on his tongue, nipping at his lips. Her moaning was punctuated by a sharp “wow!” as Harry felt Ron slide his finger up his cock and around her folds. Harry was having a very hard time concentrating on the cock in his hand, so he redoubled his efforts with long sure strokes. Hermione pushed herself upright again.

“Harry, I’m getting close, push harder.” Never one to completely ignore Hermione’s requests, he placed both hands on her hips and began to bounce her harder and faster. She began to cry out his name as she pushed herself hard against him. Harry felt another hand on him and realized that Ron had turned. He was still cupping Harry with one hand, and now the other was rubbing Hermione’s clit and Harry’s cock at the same time.

Hermione let out an ear-piercing shriek that seemed to go on forever. She clenched against him, and he could feel fluid running down his cock and over his balls. The pressure, combined with Ron’s attentions, was too much. “I’m coming,” he groaned with one last hard thrust up into her. She yelled out his name one last time when he exploded into her. Ron kept stroking and squeezing them both until they begged him to stop. Hermione lifted up off of him and he fell out, limp and spent.

“Oo, honey, is that for me?” Hermione asked as she dropped down into her husband’s arms. She reached down and stroked his stiff cock. Ron rolled over and perched himself above her.

“Yes, it is.” He leaned down and kissed her deeply, crushing her body under his. She brought her legs up and wrapped them around his waist. He lifted his hips and nudged forward.

“Oh yes,” Hermione sighed as Ron pushed himself up. He brought her knees together and began to take long strokes in and out of her. Harry crawled over and stretched out crosswise to her. He affixed his lips to her’s, this time really enjoying the kiss. Ron’s strokes weren’t terribly urgent, and he had the look of a man who had just settled in for a long stay.

“Think you can get up again?” Hermione whispered to Harry as she tried to slither a hand under him.

“I get hard with a little help from my friends,” Harry replied. “How long do we have?”

“A while,” she replied. “Want a little help from a friend?” Harry kissed her again, then perched next to her and she lifted her head to his. Harry watched as she opened her mouth and closed it around his flaccid penis. He felt her teeth scrape him lightly, but not so much to be a serious problem, yet. Blood began to flow back into his member and he began to fill out again. Ginny loved his recovery ability, but truth be known he would rather have Ron’s staying power.

Hermione moaned into him as Ron leaned forward just a bit. The three of them found a good rhythm, and the minutes passed by. At one point Harry leaned over and pulled Ron toward him. Their tongues grappled and wrestled, and the more intensely Ron kissed him, the more he found himself groping and rubbing his friend. His cock swelled to its full proportions and Hermione’s teeth began to scrape him uncomfortably. He pulled out of her mouth. “Ron, swap with me.”

“You sure about that?” Ron asked without opening his eyes. Hermione was panting now that her mouth was empty.

“Yes,” Hermione said in a far-gone voice. Her eyes were closed as well. “Swap with him, I want to taste you.” Hermione rolled over on to her hands and knees and patted the bed in front of her. Ron complied with her wish and Harry settled in behind her. “Take it easy Harry,” she said, “I’m not designed to accommodate that monster of yours.”

Harry waited until she looked comfortable and had settled into a groove on Ron. He rubbed his cock up and down her saturated slit and pushed her knees apart. He nudged into her just a bit and she let out a deep, guttural moan that Ron echoed. Harry began to take short strokes. He could feel her stretching again; this time not as much though. He started pushing deeper into her and she went from light moaning to full incomprehensible yelling as he pushed in to the hilt.

Her scream into Ron’s crotch made him cry out to the gods above, and Harry took a long retracting stroke. When he pushed forward again, she leaned back into him. He started to pick up speed now and he could tell it was taking all of her effort not to scream out loud. Harry wanted her to scream, but she seemed to be trying to get Ron to come for her.

“Oh yes, just like that, suck it hard!” Ron shouted. This pushed Harry even harder. It wasn’t Ginny whispering dirty phrases in his ear, but it was something. He wrapped his hands around her hips and started pulling her back hard against him as he slammed forward.

“Oh yes, fuck me Harry, fuck me!” she shouted. This was something new and terribly exciting. Ginny had started talking dirty to him a long time ago, and she could get pretty raunchy; but the idea of Hermione saying ‘fuck me’ was so taboo that it was an instant turn-on. Harry began to pound her harder.

As he looked down he could see that Hermione was trying to concentrate on Ron, but was having a devil of a time doing it. He watched Ron’s hand slide up and down his long shaft. “Yes, keep it up Harry, make her say it again.” Ron slid out from under Hermione and then turned around and slid back under her. This time though, his head ended up under where she and Harry were joined. Harry shivered as Ron’s tongue passed over him.

“Oh Harry, Fuuuuck meeee!” Hermione squealed. She spasmed, and clenched him, then she was screaming and shouting and her increased pressure on his cock made Harry cum. He exploded inside her like a bomb, and she squealed once more as she wrapped her mouth around Ron’s cock and buried it there.

“Oh fuck yes!” Ron growled from beneath them. Harry felt Ron’s large hands on his arse, forcing him deeper into Hermione. When Ron started getting vocal, Harry pulled out of Hermione and dropped down onto the bed next to her. He reached over and took hold of the base of Ron’s cock and began to jerk him into her mouth. She glanced to the side and raised her eyebrows. Harry moved in closer and she removed Ron’s cock from her mouth and pointed it toward Harry.

“Show me,” he said. She smiled and ran her tongue over the head and sucked in just the tip of it. When she was done, Harry leaned over and did the same. When he sucked the head of it in, Ron made several strangled sounds, none of which sounded unpleasant. Harry slid down lower, wondering how much of it he could get in his mouth. About halfway down, it stabbed him in the back of the throat in a way that was uncomfortable, so he stopped and sucked on it while moving his tongue around. Hermione began licking and kissing the half Harry could not get in his mouth.

“Holy…fucking…shit!” Ron yelled out and slapped at the bed. Harry recognized the sudden jerking and pulsing of Ron’s cock as in impending orgasm. Harry sucked hard and was rewarded with a solid blast of cum. Unfortunately he could not swallow fast enough and had to let go to avoid choking. Hermione grabbed Ron’s cock in her mouth and opened up so Harry could watch her catch and swallow. Ron made a series of inarticulate sounds as his cock finally went limp in their hands.

“You missed some,” Hermione said with a smile as she scooped a drop of semen off Harry’s chin. Harry took the proffered finger into his mouth and sucked on it. Her eyes closed in a dreamy look of satisfaction.

“Come here, you two,” Ron said, grabbing the two of them and pulling them to him. The three kissed for several minutes, sometimes tangling all three mouths together at once; other times one would kiss another while the third licked and nibbled at the other two.

Finally spent, Harry lay back and stretched out for a long moment, just breathing deeply and calming himself. Never, even in his best fantasies, had it been that good.

Harry watched, amazed, as somehow Ron found the strength to stand. He pulled Hermione into a standing position and leaned over and kissed her deeply. Harry pulled himself up and joined them. Harry noted that Hermione leaned heavily on them both, but kissed with as much enthusiasm as either of them. Ron led Hermione into the master bath and closed her in. He and Ron stripped the sheets and blankets, and by the time Hermione emerged again they were both stretched out and waiting for her.

*

“You okay, Honey?” Hermione asked in an exhausted voice.

“My kingdom for a chili-cheeseburger,” Ron mumbled. Hermione chuckled and kissed him tenderly. She nestled down into the crook of his body, his legs pulled up behind her until she was spooned protectively by his lanky frame.

“How about you, Harry?” she asked, pulling Harry to her. He curled up, facing her, and laid his head on her shoulder, just above her breast. She was glad that someone had thought to open the window as a nice, cool breeze blew over the three of them.

“I’m all right, you?” he asked.

“Never better,” she replied before kissing Harry, “never better.” They drifted off to sleep, the three of them united as never before.

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